


Through Your Eyes

by 8NightLight8



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Awesome Sarah Rogers, Boarding School, Bullying, Eventual Relationships, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Human Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Lives, Maria Stark's A+ Parenting, Minor Character Death, Poverty, Seeing through each other's eyes, Soulmates, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Telepathy, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21992386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8NightLight8/pseuds/8NightLight8
Summary: Steve and Tony belong to different social classes, they go to different schools and live in different states. But their shared difference will only bring them closer and closer together.In the world like our own, Steve and Tony are the only soulmates.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 29





	1. Tony

**Author's Note:**

> This story was mildly inspired by a movie called In Your Eyes, which introduced me to the idea of soulmates being able to see through each other's eyes. I added telepathy to the mix, though. And made everything Stony. ;) 
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://8night-light8s-marvels.tumblr.com/) or on Put On The Suit discord server as NightLight. 
> 
> Enjoy!

He was warm, safe. Someone was rocking him slowly, carefully. A blurry face. Brown hair enveloping a loving gaze and a gentle smile. Mom. His hands reached up as they swayed to the music coming softly from the radio. He grabbed a lock of her hair, tugged and she laughed.

“A troublemaker already?” She leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Don’t rush it, piccolo. Give it a few years.”

The touch of fear was sudden, bringing out of his snug daze like a splash of ice cold water. But it wasn’t his. It _wasn’t his_.

He blinked.

He could feel the soft garnet under his cheek. It smelled different, but familiar. Almost like he has known it ever since he came into this world. It was fluffy, comfortable, but the woman underneath it was shaking, crying. The fear intensified. Something was wrong. But they weren’t able to grasp just what yet. The woman rocked back and forth, back and forth.

“Steven,” she sobbed, her tears disappearing into her messy, long blond hair. “Oh, Steven.”

There was a loud noise, something like a metal tray hitting the table. He jumped.

“Sorry, ma’am.” A nervous, whispered apology.

His mom was looking away from him, but he could still the skin on her jaw stretch slightly as she smiled. “That’s okay, Jarvis. He was wide awake anyway.”

***

“I want my mom!” It was two days after his third birthday and Tony was clinging to Jarvis like his life depended on it, while his broken screams echoed through the empty mansion. He was sobbing into the butler’s perfectly white collar, which was hiding the pattern of a dark blue tie. He woke up and she was gone. She didn’t tell him that they were leaving. He didn’t even get a goodbye kiss. The pain in his chest worsened at the thought and his body shook helplessly, seemingly held together only by Jarvis’s strong hands that hugged him impossibly closer and drew wide comforting circles on the small of his back.

“I know, young sir.” He whispered constantly, his voice thick. “I’m sorry.”

The butler was carrying him somewhere, but Tony didn’t care for where they were going. He just listened to the never ending rhythm of Jarvis’s footsteps and cried. Another consciousness brushed against his own hesitantly, lightly, but Steve’s confusion still slammed into him, quickly transforming into worry far too strong for the other boy to be able to properly contain. He was in a room full of screaming toddlers, sitting in the corner quietly while he assembled obviously old, but still somehow colourful blocks into a tall tower. The sheer terror he felt from Tony had him close to bursting into tears.

“What’s wlong?” He asked. His voice shook, but Tony remained silent.

Steve’s ma would never do that, Tony knew. She would never leave them. She was a nurse and a cleaning lady and a nanny and Steve told the other boy that she did all this just for him. She didn’t care for the cocktail parties or galas or bright red dresses. She just cared for her son. 

Steve’s tower collapsed with a bang, the middle brick losing its balance and Tony let out a distressed hiccup into Jarvis’s shoulder. Steve was bad at building. He was good with words, though, and the moment he got the kindergarten teacher’s attention he did the only thing that could possibly calm Tony down. He almost hysterically and stubbornly demanded that they turn on the telly and let them watch cartoons.

The other boy’s tears stopped dripping of his cheeks.

“Jarvis?” He asked when the butler carefully sat him down on a couch and wrapped his now exhausted body in a warm blanket.

“Yes, young sir?”

“Can we watch cartoons with Steve?”

Jarvis brushed a loose curl from his forehead, offering him a reassuring, but heartbroken smile.

“Of course, young sir. Anything you want.”

***

Tony was seven years old and he was building a generator. It was late, hours after his bedtime and Jarvis was asleep. Howard’s workshop gleamed with computer screens full of bright orange graphs disturbed only by the small flashlight that the boy was holding between his teeth, while he struggled to screw one of the screws into the shell of the alternator with his greasy hands.

Steve was sick. Really sick. He was pale and weak and in pain. Less than three hours ago he couldn’t even get one sentence out before falling in another torturous coughing fit. It was pneumonia, Tony knew. He looked it up in a lexicon. A respiratory disease, it said. Go to the doctor’s. Drink a lot. Rest. Keep warm.

He was supposed to keep warm, but Steve was shivering in his sleep, even with three woollen blankets over him.

It was January. And all the lights in Steve’s room stopped working two days ago. The stove and the heating weren’t working either. The electricity was gone. But Steve needed to keep warm, so Tony was building a generator. A portable generator. One he could send by post.

He didn’t know that he will be awaked by his father’s furious screams. Didn’t know that they will only last until the man’s face would fall on the device his son build in half a night, in a highly secured workshop he didn’t have access to. He didn’t know that his mom’s eyes will fill with worry as soon as he will mention Steve and that he won’t even have the time to think about what that could mean. He didn’t know that all of his toys will disappear before the sun will set again…

And he didn’t know that he will be flying to a boarding school in Alaska on Wednesday morning. 

***

He first heard it from Anna, his home-school teacher with long brown hair and an ever encouraging voice. 

“Are you leaving?” He asked her, confused, when she presented him with a heavy book about the history of robotics on a Monday morning. She never used to bring him gifts, but she always managed to sneak him a pack of otherwise forbidden gummy worms on his birthday.

She looked up to the kitchen where Jarvis’s back could be seen as he was making coffee, scanned the man carefully and then blushed when he turned around and their gazes met. She looked sad. Disappointed. But she always held her head up high, even yesterday, when Tony barged in on her arguing with the butler in the hallway.

“No, Tony. But you won’t need me anymore. Your parents are sending you and Jarvis to boarding school.” She swallowed heavily, but then continued. “They are sending you to Alaska.”

“Oh.” Tony said. He has seen that state on the map before? The one with pirate ships and monuments and animals that used to hang on his bedroom wall? Was it a large field or a small white peck by the sea? He frowned in concentration for a moment and then asked:

“Do they have polar bears there?”

***

It was Tuesday. He was laying on the couch with his feet dangling of one the side and his head in his mother’s lap.

“You need friends, piccolo,” she said, stroking his hair and ignoring the obvious tremble that raged through him as he continued to swallow dawn his sobs. Stark men are made of iron, his father said. Explained to him what that meant too. So his body shook, but his mouth remained closed, his eyes dry.

“You need a challenge. A real challenge. A place where you will never be bored, where you won’t have to pretend that grade nine math isn’t a piece of cake for you just because you are scared of losing your primary school teacher. A place where you can grow.”

_Jarvis will stay with you there, right?_ Steve’s worried voice resounded through the boy’s mind from the still freezing apartment in Brooklyn, New York.

_Right._

_Maybe it will be good then. Like a holiday. Maybe… Maybe you will see seals and penguins and play outside a lot. Maybe it will be fun._

_Yeah._ Tony said. _Maybe._

“Mom,” he asked after breaking the connection with the other boy gently. “How long does it take for a package to travel from California to New York? Steve really needs it.”

His mother sighed, but looked at him gently, her fingers drawing patterns across his cheek. “I don’t know, piccolo, but he will be alright.”

Tony’s forehead wrinkled, his tears forgotten now. “Dad’s computer said two days. But it has been five. Do you think they might have put it on the wrong plane?”

“Your generator isn’t going on an airplane, Tony.”

“But it is safe!” Tony exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. “I made it safe! I followed the guidelines for approved plane transportation!” They should have taken it on-board. He did everything right, he knew it. And planes were much faster than trains.

“Tony…” his mom started, her voice suddenly tired, with a hint of a warning in its undertone which he completely ignored. This was about Steve after all. Why didn’t anyone seem to understand how important that made it?

“They should call dad! He will tell them! He said my alternator was brilliant!”

His mom smiled softly at that and placed a kiss on his forehead. “It was, piccolo. That’s why your father couldn’t risk it falling into the wrong hands. He took it to the city and showed it to the boarding school’s representative as soon as Anna arrived that morning.”

“But- But you said...”

The mom snorted. “You were wailing, piccolo. What else could I have done? And besides,” she continued, her voice gentler this time. “Howard was right about this. You are way too old to run around pretending you are playing with that imaginary friend of yours.”

***

“You stupid boy, your mother was worried sick!” Howard’s strides were sharp, trapped in a brutal never-ending rhythm. Tony could feel it. He could feel the way it swung him up and down slightly with every step. His skinned knee still stung sharply, the lines that the thorns left on his arm ached, but he could hardly feel the pain, to entranced by the feeling of thick, warm blood still making its way down his right leg and leaving small stains on the expensive Egyptian carpet.

“And look at the state you are in!” His father continued. “How’s that going to look next to your new uniform tomorrow, huh?”

The breaks between the times his blood would fall on the carpet were extending, Tony noted. Just like the universe was, according to the astro-physics book he got for Christmas. He wasn’t sure how long he had been outside, but the sunlight shining through the windows of the corridor he was being carried across was getting weaker and weaker. He didn’t have a plan. Not initially. His heart was racing too fast and he couldn’t see much through his tears and the garden was big. If only the wall would be a bit smoother, he would have probably really made it out. Disappear forever. Go to New York. Go live with Steve and his ma. She believed them, she always believed them. Asked Steve how he was, asked him what Tony’s robots looked like so that she could draw them on a birthday card he will probably never see in person.

“Piccolo! Oh, piccolo.” His mother’s arms were warm on his hand, her voice constantly breaking like she has been crying… But he didn’t even spare her a glance.

“He is alright, Maria. One of the guards found him in a rose bush by the east entrance; he must have tried to get over the wall.”

“Just- Just get me some gauzes, will you?”

“Jarvis?” Howard’s word sounded more like an order than a question.

“Right away, sir.”

“No,” the boy said after the butler’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway. “Leave it.”

“What do you mean, piccolo?”

“Leave it,” he repeated, more strongly this time. “At least then you will know that we are real.”

***

He didn’t let them patch him up. He screamed and kicked and scratched even through his father’s threats and his mother’s broken sobs. He didn’t falter, didn’t spare until they left him with Jarvis.

“They don’t believe me. They don’t believe he is real.” Tony told him while he was cleaning the traces of dried blood of his legs, the word still sounding disbelieving as they left his tongue.

“No, young sir,” the butler confirmed. “They don’t.”

Tony nodded to himself, then looked at the man who was kneeling in front of him, one of his suit trousers covered knees resting on a fluffy bathroom rug, rigorously. “Do you?”

Jarvis stopped draining his scratch in alcohol and held his gaze, his expression serious. “You told me what streets he walks on to get to school. You read me pages out of books that he was reading and you have never seen. You told me his address, his teacher’s name, the name of the cemetery where his father is buried.” He smiled. “You told me what his social security number was once and then cried when I told you it couldn’t be the same as yours. Maybe I used to think that you were just pretending once… But no offence, young sir,” Jarvis’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Even you wouldn’t be able to come up with someone so elaborate.”

Tony hugged him so suddenly that the butler almost lost his balance and swore to himself that he will never let go.

***

Even though it was just six in the morning the LA international airport was packed. Businessman were shouting into landlines, couples were embracing happily or crying their goodbyes and Tony wistfully observed a boy and girl his age that were playing tag and screaming with glee while their stressed parents dug through one of their bags frantically, probably looking for passports.

His mother’s hand was warm around his and he clung to it tightly as she led the way, keeping his emotions at bay. Howard couldn’t make it to the airport, but asked to see him as soon as he was dressed. Tony knocked carefully on the door of his dad’s office, waiting to hear a “come in” before stepping inside and taking a look around. He wasn’t allowed in there, usually, which meant that every time he entered despite that, he didn’t have much time to look around.

Early morning sunshine coloured the otherwise white walls a beautiful orange, making the large mahogany desk a bit lighter and the two armchairs in front of it seem almost homey. Diplomas and the awards Stark industries has won were placed in direct view and a family portrait of his mother, Tony and Howard taken less than a year ago stood proudly next to the big white box of a monitor.

“Come here, Anthony.” His dad’s voice stopped the boy from admiring the office further, and brought his eyes back to him. It was extremely early and yet Howard looked completely awake, ready to jump on a plane or argue in a board meeting. He smiled lightly before continuing. “Take a seat.” He looked at him for a moment and then asked: “Have you slept well?”

“Yes, sir.” Tony replied from the leather armchair far too huge for his liking, hoping that his father wasn’t going to notice his still sleepy eyes. If he did caught him on a lie he never said so.

“Good,” he said instead, coming to sit next to him. “I am proud of you, Anthony. I know that this transition is hard on you and I know your mother and I are asking a lot of you, but apart from your little tantrum yesterday you have handled it great.”

Howard observed him closely and the boy tilted his head a bit, fidgeting with his sleeve. Was he supposed to say thank you?

“You know,” his father continued after a pause. “I think that something was always telling me that you were smarter than I am, but I didn’t believe it until a few days ago. Until you built that alternator. The solutions you came up with, I can’t even dream I would think of them myself. The way your brain works… It is something special,” he reached out and ruffled Tony’s hair until a smile took its place on his lips. “You are something special.”

“I am?” The boy asked uncertainly.

“Of course!” the dad exclaimed. “You product was so good you just became the youngest patented engineer in the whole of America! But you can still learn more, become even better and this school is the only place where that can happen. Half of the teachers there were once MIT professors and once a week you will get a special lecture by one of the current ones. You will make friends and it will be a blast…” Howard’s expression turned stern now. “But you must never forget where you came from, what you represent.”

Tony has never seen his dad talk about him that way, all he could do was stare, nod.

“I was worried about the future of this company once, you know, but not anymore. It will be yours one day and it will excel every expectation… As long as you work hard, control yourself, be polite, forget about that fantasy world of yours and remember that you were born to build things, born to invent them. No one can take that away from you. Ever. But they do have the power to restrict you if you fail to acquire their respect. ”

There was a knock at the door and Howard paused, listening to the butler’s voice that sounded from the hallway a second later. “The car is waiting, sir.”

“Thank you, Jarvis… And hold on a minute, we are almost done and I need to talk to you before you leave as well.” He said before turning back to his son, seemingly curios.

“Did you understand what I told you?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” Tony replied.

The dad smiled, taping his shoulder. “Of you go, then. I will see you at Easter.”

Tony wasn’t sure what Howard had said to Jarvis before they left, but by the loud steps that could be heard from behind him as they circled around groups of people at the airport and by the strained smiles that the butler offered him it the car it couldn’t be anything good.

Far too soon for the boy’s liking the trio came to the point his mother couldn’t cross. He hugged her tight, trembled, but didn’t cry. She placed a series of kissed against his temple, whispered her I love you’s, and then looked up at Jarvis with her eyes full of tears.

“Take care of him?” She asked, the desperation clear in her voice, but all the butler could do was offer her a sad, but confident smile.

“Of course, ma’am.”

***

The butler sat strait through the whole flight, seemingly unbothered by the piercing screams of a baby or the gentleman that sat to his right and continuously complained over the flight attendants, although Tony could see that one of his palms was squeezed in a tight fist. His other hand, however, was wrapped around Tony’s shoulders tightly in a comforting gesture and the boy bathed in the familiar smell that wafted from Jarvis’s always perfectly ironed clothes. He tried checking in with Steve, but all he could sense were delirious dreams. He tried looking through the window, but his stomach turned at the unfamiliar landscape below them, at the thought of his mother getting smaller and smaller, slipping further and further away.

Panic overtook him suddenly and he rushed to cover his mouth, swallow down a sob, but Jarvis caught his hand it gently with in his own, placing a tender kiss to its back, before he scooped him up and placed him on his lap, all the while ignoring the protest of his neighbour. “It’s okay.” He whispered as the boy struggled to hide his tears, trying desperately to bury his face under the butler’s unbuttoned suit jacket. “It’s okay, young sir. You can cry. It’s okay to cry.”

“But dad says…”

“Your father -” Jarvis started through his teeth, then stopped himself and continued in a smoother, somehow defeated, tone. “Your father says a lot of things he doesn’t mean.”

Tony looked up at him, confused. “Really?”

Jarvis brushed the curls from his forehead, moving them out of the way so he could sooth him with another kiss and although he sounded genuine Tony couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were still glazed with flames. “Really.”

As soon as the plane landed the butler marched them to an ATM, the usual spring in his step replaced by sheer determination. Tony got to put the card in and got to type in Jarvis’s secret number using the greasy metal keyboard, before he became too entranced in finding all of the nine hidden cameras and let the butler finish the process himself. A stack of money came from the slot that scarily resembled the mouth of a monster and Tony urged Jarvis to take it out quickly so that the metal teeth wouldn’t close on his fingers.

Their next stop was a toys store. Tony’s eyes widened when they walked into the plushies section with shelves full of animals, dolls and cartoon characters of all shapes and sizes. His hands ached, but he kept himself in check.

“Dad said I’m too old for plushies.” He said when Jarvis asked him what’s wrong. “He said no one in school has them, either. He said that’s why he had to take them all away…”

“And what did I say?” Jarvis asked him, he looked sad, angry, but his smile was wide again, his eyes sparkling.

“You said he says a lot of things he doesn’t mean…” Tony trailed of, trying to get his mind around all this. “So-So I can have one?”

“You can choose any one you like,” the butler started to reply and the boy instantly rushed forward, grabbed the softest looking polar bear and pressed it against his chest. “As long as you help me pick another for someone else later.”

Tony turned to look at him, a bit accusingly. “Who?”

Jarvis’s smile widened. “Oh, you know, just some New York kid with blond hair and a definitely-not-yours social security number.”

***

Their packet arrived to New York three days later. Tony could sense Steve’s worry when he woke up from another one of his fever inducing dreams to the sound of his ma crying. He could see through the other boy’s eyes how she held the envelope full of money he helped withdraw from Jarvis’s bank account close to her chest and how her eyes scanned through the accompanying letter the butler has written over and over again. He could feel her hug as she embraced Steve, hear the other boy’s slurred thoughts finally settle on his name, feel the fur of a plush snow-white seal tickle Steve’s face and hear his sharp breath as his tired eyes settled on the accompanying Alaskan postcard with a get-well-soon message in Tony’s squiggly writing…

In that moment, it didn’t matter that he was far from home, that he didn’t get to hear his mom’s voice in days and that everyone at school was more than nine years older than he was. He looked over to where Jarvis was still sleeping across the room, squeezed his bear close and realised that he was happy.


	2. Steve

It was lunch time and a mouth-watering smell was coming from the tile-covered room behind him, but Steve didn’t care for it, too entranced in his old colourful teething toys lying in front of him. He lifted each of them as far as he could and then threw them, giggling blissfully as he watched them bounce off the wooden floor.

“What are you doing, Stevie?” The woman with the bright blond hair asked, turning from the steaming pots. “Do I have to come in there?”

The boy laughed harder, but tried to hide it by covering his mouth mischievously. His ma didn’t like it when he made a mess. If he kept this up she might turn into a dinosaur again and there was nothing that he liked more than hearing her roar and stomp while she flailed her arms around like a T-Rex.

“Ma ‘ex!” He screamed excitedly when he heard her take in a playful, shocked breath and saw her eyes narrow comically as they took in the state of room.

She dropped the act and smiled, winking at him. “Only if you put everything back in the box before dinner, baby.”

He clapped his hands, squealed and quickly crawled towards the first of the disarrayed toys. He was about halfway done when he found himself in front of a full body mirror glued to the doors of a living room… that definitely wasn’t his. The toddler in the reflection was his age, he was wearing jeans and a bright red shirt and he was banging on the silver surface excitedly.

“Siv!” He shouted, his joy enveloping the other boy’s surprise.

Steve smiled, stood up, took a few shaky steps towards the box and quickly picked out a toy which had a mirror-like foil stuck to its level belly, so that his peer could see him too.

“Ony!”

***

Steve was four years old and his shoes had holes in them. It was raining and his feet were tiny hippos, each swimming in their own swamp. If he stepped down hard enough they let out a series of dark brown bubbles. His ma was walking beside him, joining in on his laugh, letting him jump into puddles and spray his already dirty trousers with water.

It was late and when they finally came home the sun has already set behind the Brooklyn buildings. They had heated up soup for dinner and all through the meal Steve gushed about his adventures in kindergarten. How they learned to sing a new song and how he built the tallest tower yet and how they were playing a game and he got to pair up with Miss Torres. She listened attentively, looked at him with eyes full of love. When it was time for bed, Tony’s mind brushed against his and he let the other boy in, engaged him in a conversation as they both enthusiastically waited for ma to read them a story. This night it was a story about space and planets and aliens and Steve could feel Tony’s awe when one of them caught a star and kept it as a pet.

 _We should get a star when we are older!_ He exclaimed in Steve’s mind. _My dad will build us a spaceship, but I will catch it myself._

 _What about ma?_ Steve asked him, concerned. _I don’t want to go to space without ma._

_We will take her too! And Jarvis. And my mom. Then we can start a star sanctuary, get them all homes._

A palm brushed trough Steve’s hair gently and he turned his head so he could see his ma’s face. “Talking to Tony?” She asked, smiling and he nodded excitedly.

“His dad is gonna build a rocket and we will all go to space!”

He thought he saw her eyes darken with sadness for a moment, but then she looked at him in adoration and bent to place a kiss on his cheek while her long hair tickled his neck.

“I am sure we will, sweetheart. I am sure we will.”

***

When he woke up, the small handle of the large wooden clock on his wall was pointing towards number two. Ma’s bed was still made and he could see the weak, blinking light of a candle slipping through the ajar door.

There was a strange muffled sound.

Steve’s bare feet hit the cold floor silently and he stood up, realizing that he was shaking. Was it a monster? A robber? An alien with bright red eyes? He reached for Tony, but all he could sense were deep breaths and a deep, dark land of dreams. His heartbeat spiked. His steps were quiet, each and every one of them thought trough as he made his way to the doorframe… Only to find his ma covering her mouth to hide her broken sobs as she sat in a chair with wide silver duct tape in her other hand and his ratty shoes in her lap.

“Ma?” His own voice seemed foreign as the word fell out of his mouth, still laced with a trace of fear.

She flinched. Her eyes fixated on him, wide, sad, terrified, ashamed. The duct tape landed on the floor with a loud thud, which seemed to unfreeze her and before he could blink all of her emotions were hidden behind a big, comforting smile. He has never seen anything more frightening.

“I’m okay, Stevie.” His ma’s words seemed emotionless, hollow, even when she was still brushing away her tears. “Go back to bed.”

The boy didn’t know if he could move if he wanted too. His heart was in his throat, his fingers clenched around the fabric of his pyjamas. He shook his head.

Ma sighed, placed the worn-out shoes to the floor carefully, crossed the room in two steps, picked him up and pressed him against her chest. He was sobbing then, tears were blurring his vision and he struggled to get enough oxygen as he hid his face into the warmth of his mother’s neck.

“I’ve got you sweetheart.” His ma’s voice was pained now, soft, soothing, alive. “You are okay. You are okay. Everting’s okay.”

Steve shook his head again in protest, pulling away from her enough to look at her face. “It’s not! You were crying!”

“I know.” She kissed his forehead gently, her eyes sad. “I’m sorry I scarred you.”

The boy swallowed, looking down. “Was it- Was it my fault? Because of the hippos?”

“No, baby.” She sounded steadfast. Two pairs of blue eyes met. “It’s never your fault. You make me better. You make everything better.”

***

Steve was six years old and his usually light schoolbag felt heavy on his shoulders. The sun was already setting and his stomach rumbled, but he was dragging his feet on his way home from the library. No amount of colourful books he usually carried home could ever compare to the weight of today’s homework.

It was supposed to be simple enough. Way simpler than math with its additions and subtractions and weird written examples that always featured someone buying tons of sweets. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to solve this one and he didn’t want to discuss it with Tony. He could. Together they would probably come up with a better plan than eating his creation, but Steve needed to find the answer to this assignment on his own.

How do you gift a piece of paper to your heart? To the sky?

Do you look at it? Do you tie it to a rocket? Burry it? Cut it into pieces and leave them to the wind?

There was a shout on the other side of the street and the boy’s gripped the bottom of his short-sleeved t-shirt. It was getting late. Late enough for the monsters. He needed to get out of there.

***

He sat on the edge of his bad, swinging his legs nervously while he observed the movements of the handles on the clock. The neighbours were fighting again. Their shouts were loud even though they were muffled by the wall and he didn’t even need to listen carefully to understand their words. Something about money and a broken plate.

Steve closed his eyes and hugged the backpack on his lap closer to his chest. She said she will be home when the clock’s small handle moves to number nine, right? But what if… He shivered, glancing at the window. What if a monster got her? One of those that hide under streets and only come out at night?

Something starched on the outside of the front door. The boy’s ears perked and a second later his suspicion was confirmed by the soft sound of a key turning in the lock. He jumped to his feet, ran to towards it and threw his hands around his ma’s legs as soon as she stepped inside.

She quickly leaned down, wrapped him in the safe haven of her arms and placed a kiss on his temple. “Hey, sweetheart,” she said and he could hear her smile, though as he continued to cling to her she immediately became worried. “You okay?”

He nodded, tearing his face from the hug so she could look at him. “Just missed you.”

The smile that appeared on her face was bright enough to lighten up their dim Brooklyn apartment.

“I missed you too.”

***

“How was school?”

Steve was sitting on the kitchen counter, keeping close as his Ma took a break from stirring the soup that she bought from the hospital for dinner and looked at him fondly, brushing a wild lock of hair off his forehead.

“Good.”

“You finished all your homework?”

The boy looked down at his lap, the forgotten piece of paper suddenly on his mind again. He shook his head.

His ma cupped his cheek, smiling. The disappointment that he feared would be there was, as always when this happened, absent from her features.

“Want to do it now?” Her big blue eyes regarded him softly and he felt he had no choice but to tell the truth, even if it made his own eyes water.

“I- I don’t know how to.” The confession made him seem more broken then he would have liked it too.

“Oh, baby,” his ma said sympathetically and stepped closer so that she could give him a hug. “It’s alright. We can figure it out together. Wanna go get it?”

Steve listened to his ma’s strong and steady heartbeat for a moment, then nodded. Maybe she was the answer all along, he thought. It wasn’t just his heart that the paper belonged to after all, it was hers too.

He let her place him on the ground and then ran to pull the homework out of his dark blue backpack. He looked at it closely, but hid it behind his back once he crossed the kitchen doorway. The boy didn’t know what to say when ma turned to him, so he just extended his arm, offering the card to her.

As soon as her eyes fell on the front of the Steve’s creation, with its suit like white triangle and a tie that the boy coloured in, her whole body tensed. She stared at the yellow letters glued on the top of the card carefully spelling Happy Father’s Day.

Steve could feel the heat colouring his cheeks red. This was the wrong answer. He should have known. Ma still hasn’t moved and he pushed the wheels in his head to start turning faster, despite how late it was. He needed to explain, needed to right this, needed to apologise.

“Miss Wilkins said we had to give it to our dads,” he started, swallowing heart. “I-I thought maybe I had to give it to the stars or my heart, cause you said…”

His ma looked directly at him, stopping his words. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet, but she still offered him a smile. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” she said, her voice breaking as she stepped forward, crouched so that they were the same height and cupped his face. “He would have loved it.”

The next day Steve got to leave school early. Ma came as soon as he finished lunch. They went to the supermarket and chose the biggest and brightest bouquet they could find, without glancing at its price. The boy carried it proudly through the streets all the way to the graveyard and laughed as ma told him story after story about the man he has never met, but still lost.

***

Steve was seven years old and his lungs made noises that accompanied every breath he took. He was cold, so cold that he could see his room turning into an igloo, even if he could feel sweat dripping from his temples. His ma came in and out and in and out. She held him while he slept sometimes, he knew, cried when she thought he wasn’t listening, apologized. She took him to a stinky, crumbling doctor’s office located in some basement a few days after he started feeling ill, but all the old man working there said was that he needed to go to a hospital. He needed to, but he couldn’t. That’s why ma was gone for so many hours throughout day and night. So he could go. But they still couldn’t afford it. Every day he would get worse and every day she would get more and more worried and more and more scared when she brought him tea. All he could see were colours, sometimes. Sometimes his bed would turn into a ship and rock gently on the waves, sometimes monsters would chase him and no one would come when he would scream and sometimes he would have Tony right in front of him, even if he knew that he was actually on the other side of the states.

It hurt every time he tried to take a breath, so he tried to take small, shallow ones, but then panicked when he couldn’t get enough air. Tony would check in at least six times a day. He was worried sick less than a week ago, but lately that emotion was overridden by hope. Steve liked it better this way. It meant that he got to hear the other boy’s excited rambles about the new school’s curriculum, it meant that Tony kept him close when Jarvis and him went sledding, letting them both experience the winter joy. It meant that he would hear Jarvis’s voice lull them both to sleep on the evenings that his ma wasn’t home. It meant that Tony had less to hide and more to give. It meant that he was certain that something good will happen and after a few days it did.

He woke up to the familiar sound of his ma’s crying, but something was wrong. She wasn’t with him; he couldn’t feel her warming his side. The apartment swam in front of him when he walked towards the living room. Everything felt as if it was under water, but his ma’s sobs were sharp. She was holding money. There was a letter and a box. She noticed him, smiled and he was sure that he was dreaming, but her hug was real.

“It’s Jarvis.” She kept saying as she pushed a plush white seal into his arms. “Tony and Jarvis sent this.”

 _Tony._ Steve’s thought finally grasped the context of her previous words. _Tony._ He could feel him lurking around his mind, feel his happiness envelop him and give him the energy to keep standing. He did this. Jarvis did this. They send the stack of dollars.

“You will be okay, you will be okay,” The boy’s ma breathed into his shoulder, relief and disbelief colouring her voice. But when he turned and saw that his ma’s smile faltered, that it was chased away by an emotion he couldn’t name, he was surprised to realise that while Tony was right with him, he has never been further away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up: I am updating this story's tags as I go, so please check them out before reading each chapter. 
> 
> And to the boarding school in Alaska we go! ;)

It was three a.m. and the dormitory hallway was only illuminated by the weak orange glow of a small rectangular plug-in night light. Tony’s steps were slow, careful and so far his socked feet haven’t landed on any of the creaking floorboards which had the potential to ruin the boy’s plan. Everything was quiet and anyone else would probably describe it as peaceful, but that adjective was the farthest from what Tony felt. He was excited, angry, determined, he could feel his heart beating in his throat.

Tony was ten years old and Tiberius Stone was a dick, although Steve preferred to call him a bully. He intentionally spilled his soda on the boy’s letter to Jarvis last week, he continuously tried to convince the professors that Tony’s solutions to their homework problems wouldn’t work and three days ago he presented one of Tony’s latest coding projects as his own, after stealing it from the boy’s bag during lunchtime. He was eighteen. He worked out at the school’s gym four days a week and he looked like a mountain. His hair was bright brown, his brain was small and his parents owned a company called Viastone, which was Stark Industries’ biggest rival.

Tony was going to crush him tonight, but he had to get to the computer room first.

“I don’t like this,” Steve chimed in on his thoughts from his kitchen table. It was seven in the morning in New York, so he was already dressed and was doodling onto his napkin while eating his cereal. If the other boy squinted, he could see a wonky reflection of his worried face in the bright white liquid that was soaking his Shreddies in the corner of their shared eyesight. “What if you get caught?”

 _I plan on getting caught._ Tony replied in his mind while he cautiously opened the door to the kitchen which, he has learned, was always left unlocked. The metal counters were shining under the moonlight that was streaming through the window, but there were no adults in sight.

“And then what? You will happily live out the rest of your life in prison?”

 _Nah_ , Tony replied, smirking gloomily while he sneaked past the freezers. _My dad would never let that happen._ _Too much bad press and all that._

“This isn’t funny, Tony!” Steve exclaimed and the other boy jumped at the unexpected change of volume, but managed not to slam into anything. “It’s National Security we are talking about. You can’t just break into all of their systems to prove a point and then expect no consequences.”

 _I am ten, Steve. I will say that I was just playing around, I will say that I’m not sure how I did it, I will say that I didn’t know how much damage I can do and that I certainly didn’t want to cause any trouble. That last one was the truth, by the way,_ he added before the other boy could even open his mouth. _I don’t want to cause any trouble; I just have to so I can get back at Ty._

Steve was quiet after that for a few minutes and Tony used the time to disable the alarm that protected the other side of the school – the side that was actually used for teaching.

“Jarvis wouldn’t like this,” he then said quietly, knowing that this was a low blow.

Tony froze for a moment, then shook his head. _Jarvis isn’t here._

They took him away after the first semester he spent at the school. Howard said that their house was cluttered, that they needed him back to run the errands. Tony’s mom must have known about it, must have known how much this would hurt them both, but she let it happen anyway. He hasn’t written a word to her since, hasn’t said anything other than hello and goodbye to her in three years. When he was home for the holidays the only person he acknowledged was Jarvis.

It made the butler nervous, scared, but Tony knew they would never fire him because of this. His father wasn’t even home enough to know what was happening and his mom was always good at keeping her personal life separated from the professional. And besides, she loved Jarvis. She was the one that chose him all those years ago before the boy was even born, knowing that he would be the person she would spend most of her time with while Howard was away and if she wasn’t his boss, Jarvis would probably call her his friend.

He described how distraught she was in his letters to Tony after he returned to Alaska after his first holidays at home, begged him to write to her, but although his heart was breaking the boy didn’t budge; only asked the butler to look after her.

She still sent him letters on Tuesdays and Thursdays, twice every week and he read them all, cried sometimes, but he never wrote anything back. She sent him away, took Jarvis from him and she would have left Steve to die when he was sick, rather than check if he really existed. Some days Tony wasn’t sure who his silence hurt more, but he kept on with it anyway.

Steve didn’t like this and the other boy’s ma constantly reminded him to cherish what he has, but nothing they did could break his stubbornness. They still tried, though.

The door to the computer room creaked a bit and Tony paused, listening watchfully, but no footsteps could be heard. He slid in. Thirty six black computer screens stared back at him and he smiled mischievously.

“Just… Be careful,” Steve’s worried voice carried a bit of an apology and Tony let his love for his friend shine through his mind to let him know that he was forgiven.

_Of course._

Twenty minutes later every website in America, including those representing government organs crashed. Instead of their content, four gold words shone on them from the now bright red backgrounds. Every single website proudly proclaimed: _Tiberius Stone is a cheater._

***

When they called Tony out of his morning class, Steve was just getting stuffed into an abandoned supply closet. It was small and dark and it stank and he didn’t want to go in there so he fought and he fought and tried to scream, but as always Rumlow’s hands were quicker than his brain. They pressed against his mouth, warm and sticky and made him feel like throwing up. As the older boy threatened to cover his nose as well Steve went limp and then it was all over in a heartbeat. The door closed with a bang and he sank to his knees while he listened to the other boys’ cruel laughs.

He was a bad friend. He knew Tony was scared, even though he tried to cover it up in the morning. He was way too smart not to be after all, and they both knew that this was big. Tony was scared and yet Steve’s mind stayed closed, hidden. Rumlow and his gang were one of his secrets. One of more than a handful of things he kept from his best friend.

He would be lying if he said that he didn’t know when the white lies and hidden truths started, because he did, but he still wasn’t sure why he was so desperate to keep them to himself. Since his ma received Jarvis’s envelope and he got his plushy seal, his thoughts stopped being available at all times. They closed off when their washing machine broke, they fell silent to Tony when Ma didn’t have enough money to bring home dinner, they hid when he first fell into Rumlow’s hands… And when the other boy would ask about it Steve would just brush it off, but in truth this bothered him more than it should, because Tony never had any secrets from him, Tony told him everything.

The muffled sobs that ran through him and were shaking his core worsened at the already familiar fact. He wasn’t a good friend. Not even when Tony needed him.

He should have been more careful today, Steve knew, and this would never have happened. He wouldn’t be attacked while returning from the toilet during lunch break again and he could be with Tony. But he was worried. He didn’t think. And Rumlow had a way of always knowing when someone was vulnerable.

When Steve first met him he was eight and the older boy was twelve. He sat on the stairs in front of one of the apartment complexes on Steve’s way to the library, sporting a cheap, but sharp looking bright white shirt, messy black hair, a nosebleed and a dark blue bruise around his swollen eye. His image shocked the younger boy hard enough that he politely asked the other if he needed help and the next day at school turned out to be a living hell. There was nothing that Rumlow hated more than kindness, possibly because he probably never got to experience it himself.

Someone banged at the metal door and Steve jumped. Only a few more minutes and they will get bored, he told himself as he huddled his legs closer to his chest. A few more minutes and they will go eat, a few more minutes and he will get to be with Tony.

***

The head of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division stared at Tony with interest. They were in the physics classroom and autumn sunshine was bouncing of the triangle prism on the teacher’s desk, showering the room with beautiful colours. Tony was trying to look anywhere but at the man’s serious face and the mysterious patch that covered the place where his left eye should be. The boy thought it was cool, wanted to ask what happened, but Jarvis taught him better. He tried to distract himself by imitating one of Steve’s latest doodles on the blank piece of paper that lay in front of him, but he wasn’t one for drawing anything other than technical sketches. The silence stretched. The last time that the man sitting across from him spoke was more than half an hour ago, when he informed him that they were waiting for his father.

“Can’t we just get this over with?” Tony asked, trying desperately to sound bored, while his heart was racing and he wished for nothing more than that he could feel Steve or at least hold onto his plush bear. “My father is probably buzzy anyway.”

The agent across from him tilted his head. “As you are a minor I am not allowed to talk to you about the threat to the national security that you pose, until you are joined by one of your legal guardians.”

The boy swallowed. “Right.”

Steve’s concern enveloped him so unexpectedly that he flinched, but tried to play it off as a nervous tick. Their minds greeted each other happily, making a mess out of both of their thought for a moment, before they fell in sink again.

 _What happened?_ Steve asked from where he was supposed to be quietly reading a poem. _Are you okay?_

_Let’s say I am not in jail yet?_

_Who is that man? He looks scary._

_Scary?_ Tony tried to play it off, even though he knew that the other boy could feel his heart beating. _He is obviously harmless. A bit constipated, sure, but…_

 _Tony!_ Steve exclaimed, sending a hint of annoyance his way at his obvious pretence.

_Right. Well he is obviously here to scold me, but apparently he has to wait for my dad._

_That sucks._

_Yeah._

_And he hasn’t said anything?_

_Nope._

_I guess we’ll just have to wait then._ Steve said. _At least you will finally be able to sit through my whole English lesson._

Tony closed his eyes so he could roll them without the one-eyed man noticing. _Yay me._

Howard arrived an hour later in the role of a pissed-off, distressed and oh-so-loving parent.

“What the hell is this Nick?” His sharp voice asked as soon as he crossed the threshold. “I was rushed out of a tech conference in Texas.”

The agent’s voice remained as emotionless as ever. “Your son has hacked into the main American server.”

“He… He what?”

“The problem with the internet today. He caused it.”

His dad’s wide eyes turned to Tony, holding nothing but shock, puzzlement. “You did?”

The boy nodded slowly, having to force his neck to cooperate, but his father’s response was completely opposite to the one he was expecting. His eyes flashed with pride.

“Now as I am sure you are aware the firewalls around that are the strongest anyone has ever invented and breaking them means that Anthony here is able to also break into out army serves, our social security network, our president’s personal correspondence and so on. He poses a threat to the security of this country.”

“A-A threat?” Howard was desperately trying to get a hold of his disbelief. “He is a gift!”

The other man thought for a moment than nodded. “A very dangerous gift, maybe. One that could cause much damage if it fell into the wrong hands…” His eyes narrowed on Tony. “Or his own childish ones.”

“Oh come on, Nick! You will be begging me to let him work for you in a few years. This was just a- a prank gone too far, right Anthony?” Howard turned to his son again, like he was expecting something and the boy nodded again.

“Yes.” He said with his mouth drier than a desert. “J-Just a prank. It- It won’t happen again.”

“There you go, see.” His father sounded pleased. He walked over to Tony and placed his hands on his shoulders. “He won’t do it again, you can keep this quiet and your security can be on him at all times. There is nothing to fear. Now if you will excuse us,” He said, patting the boy’s arm until he stood up and then leading his towards the door. “I think I owe my son here some ice-cream.”

***

What followed was one of the weirdest things Steve has ever witnessed. Howard took Tony to an ice-cream shop, a literal ice-cream shop in Alaska, bought his three scoops and set him down at the most deserted table, all the while his eyes shone like a crazy-man’s. The boy could feel his peer’s confusion, his fear. This has never happened before after all and the last time they even saw Howard was on last Christmas Eve.

“I sent an application for you to MIT last month, you know that?” The man asked and all Tony could do was stare at him, baffled at the unexpected conversation opener. “They refused to accept you. Said that you were too young, that you wouldn’t understand what was going on in lectures even after I told them that you are soon going to graduate here. I promised them more money, I tried everything, but they didn’t budge. Now, though, now they can’t deny it anymore. They will have to take you. You will be the youngest MIT student ever. And the best successor Stark Industries could ever ask for.”

 _He- He is happy?_ Steve asked, bewildered. _He didn’t just do that to get you out?_

The only response that he got was the other boy’s own surprise.

Howard studied him closely for a moment. “It was the Stone boy that you did this to, huh?” He asked then, grinning and Tony finally seemed to get his voice back.

“Tiberius Stone, yes. He stole my coding project a few days ago, presented it as his own…” He finished apologetically and yet his father’s grin only winded as he reached over the table to ruffle the boy’s hair.

“You did good,” he said. Tony shone with pride and the sickening lump in Steve’s throat has never felt heavier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yey chapter three! I really loved writing this one. :D 
> 
> What did you think? Please let me know in the comments.


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